


Pink Lemonade

by I_Am_The_Circle



Category: Grease (1978), Grease - All Media Types, Grease - Jacobs & Casey & Farrar
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Sandy, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Lesbian Frenchy, Makeover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 15:18:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12435540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Am_The_Circle/pseuds/I_Am_The_Circle
Summary: Her smile is soft, her laugh is like summer, and Frenchy thinks she must taste like pink lemonade. Sandy doesn't wear much lipstick, or any makeup for that matter, but her lips are a pale pink that matches her sweater. She's grinning and tugging on her necklace, and something about it makes something in Frenchy's chest ache a bit.//Frenchy already thought Sandy was distractingly gorgeous. When Sandy calls and asks her to give her a makeover, Frenchy has a hard time concentrating.





	Pink Lemonade

**Author's Note:**

> Ok story time & explanation: I started this fic this past May when I played Frenchy in Grease. Very early in the production, I concluded that my Frenchy was a lesbian and in love with Sandy. Eventually, I noticed that I might have had a small crush on the girl that played Sandy in our production. So now I'm not sure if I developed a crush on her because I played Frenchy as having a crush on Sandy, or if I decided to have Frenchy in love with Sandy because I already liked her and wanted an excuse to stare at her lovingly for two hours a night.
> 
> Anyway, I finally finished this fic just now. Stil not completely satisfied with the ending, but it's been sitting in my wips for half a year, so I just decided to finish it quick and post it.
> 
> Note: Since this is based off the play version, Sandy is referred to as Sandy Dumbrowski rather than Sandy Olsson.
> 
> Enjoy!

Her smile is soft, her laugh is like summer, and Frenchy thinks she must taste like pink lemonade. Sandy doesn't wear much lipstick, or any makeup for that matter, but her lips are a pale pink that matches her sweater. She's grinning and tugging on her necklace, and something about it makes something in Frenchy's chest ache a bit.

They're sitting in Sandy's bedroom, alone for once. Frenchy got the call and was surprised to hear Sandy request her presence only. She didn't know why the rest of the Pink Ladies weren't invited, but she didn't mind so much. There's something strangely exciting about sitting alone with Sandy and talking quietly over Sandy's record player. Besides, she knows if Rizz came along there'd only be trouble, and Frenchy finds she enjoys just sitting peacefully with Sandy.

Sandy who's blushing a bit as she asks Frenchy if she could give her a bad-girl makeover.

Frenchy blinks- Sandy wants her to do what?

"I mean, sure, I could, but why? You're already stylish as it is, Sandy. You don't need to dress like us to catch eyes." Saying this, Frenchy feels her face heat up a bit but thankfully Sandy's preoccupied with trying to explain her request.

"I just... I feel like I can't get anywhere the way I am. Like nobody takes me seriously. I've got to do something about it."

Frenchy only barely resists insisting "I take you seriously!" And instead nods real serious-like as if she was thinking about how best to make Sandy someone the Pink Ladies and the Burger Palace Boys will pay attention to, rather than just considering how distractingly gorgeous Sandy Dumbrowski already is, and how much more she will be afterwards.

Eventually Sandy convinces her with soft words and a hand gentle on Frenchy's shoulder, so before she knows it, Frenchy's getting out her makeup and opening it. She starts with foundation and tries to ignore how soft Sandy's skin is. Then it's eyeshadow and mascara and wow, does Sandy have lovely eyes that French could get lost in. She forces herself to carry on in her work, coming finally to a tube of red lipstick. Frenchy's not partial to this color herself, preferring brighter pinks to crimson, but as she starts to swipe it onto Sandy's lips she begins to see the appeal. Feeling her cheeks flush, Frenchy tries to ignore thoughts of Sandy and those red, red lips kissing Danny Zuko. Zuko who never deserved Sandy anyway. Zuko who Frenchy was currently helping Sandy win back, even if Sandy hadn't said it in so many words.

Suddenly feeling sick and still warm from such close proximity to Sandy, Frenchy instinctively scoots away and avoids eye contact. She covers this up with the excuse of retrieving her curling iron. Grateful for the pleasant distraction doing Sandy's hair provides, Frenchy banishes all thoughts of brushing those curls back and running her fingers along the soft expanse of Sandy's neck and feeling her shiver in response.

Finally done with Sandy's hair, Frenchy sits back and chews on her lip, considering what kind of outfit would best compliment the new Sandy. Making up her mind, Frenchy crosses the room to grab her telephone, sitting through the dialing process until the crackly voice of one of her cousins is heard. Maria, always enthusiastic about a makeover, squeals that she'll be over with a few outfits to try in ten minutes.

When Maria rings the bell, Frenchy takes the clothing from her arms and then thanks her, knowing she wanted to come in but shutting the door on her anyway. Something about this afternoon has the feeling it's just for Frenchy and Sandy. So French promises to return the clothes as soon as possible and then returns to Sandy's room where Sandy was currently staring in the mirror as if she could barely recognize her own face.

Sandy takes the clothes into her closet, leaving Frenchy sitting by herself with the knowledge that Sandy was getting dressed just behind that door. Desperately, French digs in her pocket for a pack and lights a ciggie to occupy her shaking hands. Likely she shouldn't be smoking in Sandy's bedroom, but she can't help but think it's the least dangerous thing she could be doing in the moment.

When Sandy comes out wearing the first outfit, Frenchy nearly drops her cigarette. Of course, Sandy was already gorgeous and Frenchy found her irresistible when she was in soft pink cardigans. But still, the skin-tight red dress that Maria had delivered was something else altogether. Sandy stands in front of the mirror and shifts uncomfortably while Frenchy tries to find words that wouldn't damn her. She's saved when Sandy turns to her and says uncertainly, "Um, French? I can't really breathe in this one. Maybe we can try another?" Frenchy nods in response and sighs in relief when she's startled by Sandy again.

"Actually, I don't think I can get out of this by myself?" She giggles nervously, and Frenchy can't help but to smile herself. Sandy turns so her back is to Frenchy and pulls her curly hair off her neck so Frenchy can slowly unzip the back. Eventually it's loose enough that Sandy is able to wiggle free from its clutches. And then she's standing in front of Frenchy in her soft white bra and all Frenchy can think is she's gotten herself in too deep, because Sandy is thin and soft and smooth, all pale skin with a smattering of freckles across her chest. And Sandy's blushing red like her lipstick and looking at her expectantly and Frenchy remembers she's got the next outfit. Face burning, she hands it to Sandy, who returns to the closet to put it on, and puts her head in her hands. She's messing up her hair, she knows, but perhaps not nearly as much as she's messing up her friendship with Sandy, Sandy who's changing into the next outfit barely five feet away behind a slatted door.

When Sandy emerges from the closet once again, she's in a pantsuit this time. It's black, mostly, and still skin-tight but not so much she can't breathe like the last outfit. Her hands fidget nervously at the wide belt as she gazes at Frenchy for approval, as if she could give anything else. French lets out a sigh and then smiles at her.

"Hey, Sandy?" She asks, and if her voice is shaking, Sandy doesn't seem to notice.

"Yeah, French?" Sandy answers in a low voice with a note of trepidation. Maybe she did notice.

"You're a knockout." There is nothing else Frenchy could say in this moment. The words are simple and not necessarily world-shaking, except that the way Sandy's looking at her makes them feel that way.

"You really think so?" Sandy's closer now, and Frenchy doesn't know quite when that happened. Somehow though, she's looking directly into Sandy's eyes, which are ringed with eyeliner and thick mascara, making her gaze feel heavy on Frenchy's face. Frenchy doesn't know where to look: Sandy's eyes, her nose, her lips so red and so close?

The moment her eyes fall on Sandy's lips, she knows she's made a mistake, but God, how can she look away? Sandy's standing so close now that Frenchy can almost feel her breath, and of course Sandy can see where she's looking. Her eyes are wide, and she takes in a sharp breath as if surprised. Frenchy braces herself for Sandy to jump away and avoid her gaze until graduation. Instead she leans even closer, and her eyes flutter shut.

Suddenly her lips are on Sandy's, and Frenchy knows that they're smudging the lipstick she put on only twenty minutes ago. She also knows that Sandy's new scarlet red is mixing with and overtaking the pink she herself is wearing, and yet despite knowing this, she leans into Sandy even more and deepens the kiss. Her hands go to Sandy's neck while Sandy's come to rest upon her shoulders where they seem to burn through the fabric of her Pink Lady jacket.

Sandy doesn't taste like pink lemonade, not quite. It's something closer to waxy lipstick and quiet longing, but to Frenchy it's better than she could have possibly imagined.

They're both breathing hard when they pull apart, and Frenchy feels a strange pride to see the damage they've done to Sandy's perfect Cupid's bow. Sandy's hands are still on her, and they make it hard to form full sentences, but Frenchy manages the question on her mind.

"What about Danny? I thought that was love at first sight." She remembers the glowing smile Sandy had that first day while telling them all about how in love she was with Danny Zuko. Frenchy thinks she likes the current look of wonder and want on Sandy's face even better.

"I thought so too. Turns out I was wrong about a lot of things concerning Danny Zuko."

"And concerning Frenchy Facciano?" Frenchy asks, teasing a bit now that she's feeling more confident. Sandy gives a wry smile that makes it hard for Frenchy to breathe and plays along.

"Well, it's hard to know for sure," Sandy drawls, "but I'm feeling pretty right about her." Sandy ends this statement with a kiss on Frenchy's cheek that makes Frenchy blush redder than Sandy's lipstick. Frenchy has a hard time responding, but eventually manages to tease back.

"Let's hope it stays that way." Sandy laughs, breathy and close, and begins to lean in for another kiss, but Frenchy stops her first.

"And Sandy?" Sandy's lovely eyes are wide in confusion. "You don't have to dress like this, you know? You were already perfect." Sandy smiles and it makes Frenchy's heart skip.

"I know. I just needed an excuse to hang out with you alone." Sandy, with a devious twinkle in her eyes, takes Frenchy's stunned silence as an excuse to close the distance and kiss her again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this gay vent fic of mine bc I had a crush on our Sandy & please don't consider the moral ramifications of my writing this fic in which I could make out with her, thanks & good night.


End file.
